


Red Shade, Blue Glass

by unluckyxse7en



Series: Chaosbound [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anxies (character), Character Death, Dayekh (character), Death, Fan Characters, Fantrolls, Original Character(s), Other, Pesterlog, Self-Harm, Trollian, Zahyit (character), Zeerce (character), fan trolls, it's a nervous habit but nonetheless, no canon characters, troll quirk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-05 22:07:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14628000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unluckyxse7en/pseuds/unluckyxse7en
Summary: Things get rather shaken up for blueblood Anxies Calyps when he finds out his dead friend isn't so dead...*while this is part 3 of Chaosbound, the starting events in this story take place a little before part 1! There's no crossover yet but as the stories develop it may become more evident.-I try to stay a little faithful to troll terminology at least in descriptions if not dialogue, but a lot of dialogue and narrative utilizes English human colloquialisms and concepts; I may come back and change those if I have the chance, but currently I don't know if I'll get a chance to edit that thoroughly. please bear with me.*Archive warnings, tags and pairs might change as I develop more 'chapters'. I have a general idea of where this story is going but currently don't know how far or in-depth it'll go. I'll make sure to update as I go.





	Red Shade, Blue Glass

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: reference to character death, dead body, handling a dead body, self-harm via nervous scratching of self and horns, ghosts, reference to feeding bodies to lusii

You take in a shaky, cold breath. Your lungs rattle as the air rushes in, but you don't notice. Just as you haven't really noticed how long you've been crouching under a rather juvenile-looking makeshift fort, huddled there in the chilly night air. You had hunkered down under this strange little structure in desperation. It appeared to be a hiding space; at the very least, you’ve been using it as such. For hiding. As you've hidden all the while, you've been staring. Staring at the troll lying a little ways away from the fort. No, not troll... Body.  
Just moments before, that body… That troll... had been alive, and moving, and in fact seemed more animated than he had in sweeps…. and now that was all gone, a husk left in its place. And you… you simply sat there and watched it be taken from him.  
Your breath hitches as a sob threatens to break out, and you bite your lower lip hard, urging it to stay back. You should be doing something, returning to your hive safe and sound so his sacrifice isn't in vain, maybe hiding the body so a lusus doesn't get it, something. Anything. But instead you sit, hidden from view thanks to the fort, trembling as you stare, transfixed by the body.  
Your communications device, tucked in your hoodie pocket the way it always is, chimes with a ping and it takes all you have to stifle the yelp that escapes your mouth, hand pressed firmly to the lower half of your face. Why did it go off who was that why would someone be pestering you now oh god what if it's her what if she decided she wanted to hunt you down after all what if she was using it to try to find you---  
The device pings again, startling you from your panic-ridden train of thought. Desperately, you try to wrestle the unwieldy device from the fabric of your pocket. You've got to silence it before it makes another noise, before the murderer hears you. It stays mercifully quiet as you fumble with the controls, trying to open it up and click to system functions as quietly as possible.  
You manage to mute it, and breath a small sigh of relief. You're in the process of folding the device up and putting it away again, when the notification count on the trollian app catches your eye. A small, red square, with the number 2 inside it, glows at you from the screen. Curiosity getting the better of you, you warily open the app, changing your settings to invisible quickly. The messages are from…  
your bloodpusher seems to stop. That can't be right. That can't be him. Your eyes dart over the handle, once, twice, thrice…. the same color, the same handle name. Even the quirk looks right. Everything points to it being the now-dead troll. Zahyit Geiste. But how…?

-requiemRevival (RR) began trolling deterredBrawn(DB)-  
RR: Anxies  
RR: brreathe. 

You glance up from the screen, hands trembling more than before. Your eyes dart around, as if some explanation you hadn't yet noticed will make itself apparent.  
His body is still laying exactly as it was last time you looked. No change there.  
Why would anyone do this? Was this a trap? Was it his killer, Zeerce? Was she using his account, his device or husktop, to try to suss you out somehow? To make you reveal yourself inadvertently? But why? Why would she choose to do it this way? Why would she tell you to breath? A veiled threat?  
Trollian’s screen blinks, a new message in the log. 

RR: she isn't looking forr you anymorre. She got what she wanted by culling me. You’rre safe now. 

You stare down at the message, your eyes fixed on one string of words in particular. 

By culling me. 

A small whine emanates from your throat. What is this? What is happening? You suddenly don't understand anything. You blink back tears as more messages pop up on the screen. 

RR: I know this must be bizarrrre. You'rre not the only one who's confused.  
RR: i need you to do me a favorr.  
RR: I'll explain it laterr, once you'rre back in yourr hive.  
RR: can you help me?

You stare down at the screen, mind beginning to freeze. You're not sure you dare respond. Whatever this is… whoever this is… you're not sure you trust them. You're not sure you even dare to touch the keyboard. You swallow thickly. You're really getting freaked out, and some part of you entertains the idea of just putting the device back into your pocket, finding a way to dispose of your departed friend’s body nicely, and make it home before anything else can possibly happen. Your hand twitches as the thought occurs to you, and almost instantly another message sends, causing you to jump despite the lack of sound. 

RR: You don't need to type out a rreply if you'rre not comforrtable with it.  
RR: but I rreally just need this favorr. I prromise it isn't dangerrous, and is harrdly a task.  
RR: how about this  
RR: if you'll hearr me out, nod. 

Your eyes widen, fresh panic settling in as you realize the implications. Whoever this is can see you. They can SEE you. Your eyes dart around, trying to find something, anything, that would indicate where they are. A new message pops up.

RR: wait dammit  
RR: don't panic  
RR: yeah I can see you  
RR: but I won't hurrt you.  
RR: I don't think you can see me anyways.  
RR: brreathe  
RR: it'll all make sense soon.  
RR: please.  
RR: hearr me out?

You unconsciously take a deep breath as you read the messages, feeling the air settling into your core. You're still terrified as all get out, and yet…  
you nod, shakily. You swallow thickly, and take a moment to wipe the tears from your eyes as the next messages send. 

RR: Oh thank fuck  
RR: Okay this is gonna sound weirrd but stay with me  
RR: I need you to go overr to my body overr therre  
RR: and brreak off a piece of my horrn

Your eyes run over the words several times, trying to understand.  
“Over to… Zahyit’s body…?” You whisper to yourself hoarsely. To break off one of his horns no less?? What does this mean? You glance up nervously at the body before looking back down at the screen. 

RR: yeah to my body  
RR: will you do this forr me? 

You gulp, sweat beading on your forehead. You nod once more. Fingers trembling, you type out a reply. 

DB: what am ! supposed to do w!th !t once !’ve broken !t off?  
RR: just… keep it with you, until you'rre back in yourr hive?  
DB: !’mmm…. really not comfortable w!th that !dea.  
RR: I know. I wouldn't be eitherr. But I told you, I'll explain it once you'rre out of herre  
RR: I’d carrrry it myself, if I could.  
RR: but I rreally don't think I can the way things arre now.  
RR: please. You'rre my only hope. 

You hesitate, wondering if you really should trust any of this. You're not sure you do. But your fingers move as if of their own accord, and you hit send before you really even think about what you've written. 

DB: Okay. !’ll do !t. 

Hands shaking, you stuff the device back into your pocket, girding yourself mentally. You just agreed to take a piece of a dead troll’s horn, to someone you aren't even sure you know. Even as you begin to move, crawling on hands and knees to exit the low-hanging threshold of the fort, a part of your brain is screaming at you that this is a bad idea. Deep down, you're certain it is. But the fearful part of your brain reasons, as it always has, that you have better chance of surviving whatever this is if you're compliant. Maybe if you're lucky your cooperation will buy you your survival.  
Navigating carefully around your hiding place, past the rubble strewn everywhere, the storage compartments and the discarded garbage strewn here and there, you creep closer to Zahyit’s body. You get so close to him, you can almost see his face, turned away from you. You can't bear to look. You can't bear the idea of that being the last memory of him.  
Your face is now inches away from one of the points of his long horns. This is it. Just, grab the horn, break a piece off. Doesn't even have to be a big piece probably. You break stuff all the time just by looking at it wrong. Just… reach for it…. grab it… and…  
Snap!!  
The horn breaks in half, the brittle snapping sound catching you off guard. You didn't know what you expected it to feel like, but it wasn't that. You turn it around in your hand, examining it. It's just a normal horn from any angle.  
You're not sure where to put it, but you aren't entirely sure you want it in your hoodie pocket. You decide to captchalogue it for safekeeping, before you realize your next conundrum has finally reared its head.  
What do you do with the body?  
You stare at it in silence. You don't know if you could bear to move it yourself. Maybe someone’s lusus could take it and eat it instead. But… but is that really what you want? What if She returns and does something with the body instead? The idea doesn't sit well with you, even knowing it doesn't really matter in the long run.  
You just can't leave him here. You can't explain why, you just can't bear the idea. Almost acting entirely on impulse at this rate, you lift the body and heft it over your shoulder, and maintaining the momentum this action creates, you turn heels and head for home. 

You don't break pace until you make it to your hive, carrying a body over your shoulder and one of its horns in your sylladex. Once you hit your lawnring, you finally slow down, setting the body down next to a lovely tree you've had growing all this time. Maybe if you can't feed the body to a lusus, you'll feed the body to a tree, somehow. That's possible, right?  
You still haven't looked at his face, and even when you set him down you made sure to angle the face away from you. You… just can't handle the idea right now. You could barely handle the fact that you were carrying the body this long. You feel the sudden urge to deep clean your sweater. If only your species had a method of deep cleaning clothing. But no… you'll have to settle for the standard method, you guess.  
As satisfied as you can be with the body laying in your lawnring - which isn't much- you find no other option present but for you to return to your hive for the time being. At the very least, you need to look for something to help you with... whatever you want to do with the body. You’re still trying to work that one out.  
You cautiously approach the door to your hive, opening it slowly.  
“Hello…?” You call, voice tinged with anxiety. No response. Thank goodness. This means your custodian must be otherwise preoccupied. You just hope he isn't currently preoccupied in between you and the door to your respiteblock.  
You try to sneak through your front block carefully, wincing at every creak from the floor beneath your feet, every scuff from your shoes. You know that if he didn't respond to your entry he won't react to any of this… for now… but you still find your nerves jangled with every new noise you inadvertently make. You're just thankful your communications device is muted--- oh gosh, you almost forgot!! The troll who was pestering you, whoever they were!! You wonder if they've messaged you since, though you're not sure you want them to. The concept, frankly, sounds more stressful than anything.  
You find your way to your respiteblock without interruption from your lusus. Shutting the door behind you carefully, you lean against it for a moment and sigh. You suppose you should just get it over with and check your alerts. You pull out your communications device, checking for messages. No new alerts. You breath another sigh, one of relief - but it's short lived. As if the sender knew you were looking, another message shows up in the log right before your eyes. 

RR: ok so  
RR: I owe you an explanation by now forr surre.  
RR: Prrobably severral at this rrate  
DB: D!d you know ! was back !n my hive when you sent that???  
RR: yeah…. kinda  
DB: How??? Who are you?????  
RR: You prrobably wouldn't believe me unless I showed you.  
RR: Ok, arre you rready?  
DB: for WHAT  
RR: I'm going to rreveal myself to you  
RR: but you need to be absolutely rready forr anything  
RR: Like, I don't want you to get scarred out of your thinkpan by this. So I need you to be rready forr it.  
DB: Why would ! be scared?? What are you go!ng to do???  
RR: Nothing! I prromise I won't bite, but it's gonna be an unpleasant sight.  
DB: ! really don't l!ke the sound of th!s…  
RR: ok, just. Turrn arround.

You frown at the message. Turn around?  
You do so, cautiously at first, only your head. You freeze once you see him. Standing behind you, eyes an eerie white, was Zahyit. The troll you watched die.  
He gives you a cautious half-wave, seemingly a little nervous. Your jaw drops, eyes almost bugging out of your skull.  
“Zahyi--Zahyit??” You stammer, voice shaking. This isn't right he really shouldn't be here what is happening oh gods did you finally lose your mind are you hallucinating right now out of guilt has it happened did you finally snap---  
You don't even realize you'd begun clawing at your horns until you hear a voice snap at you sharply (oh god are you hallucinating sounds now too is that how it happens?)  
“Anxies!!!!” The vision of Zahyit, whatever he is, sounds both frustrated and worried. You stare at him blankly, lowering your hands from your head and tucking them under folded arms. The Zahyit image seems to relax some, making a barely audible sigh.  
“Oh thank the horrorterrors you finally heard me. I kept calling your name and you didn't respond, and I couldn't get your attention any other way and--” It stalls thoughtfully.  
“Sorry, I shouldn't have yelled. I just freaked out some myself,” it admits, and begins to kneel down to sit on your floor. You watch the vision numbly, only vaguely aware of its words. Hands still folded under your arms, you absently try to claw and scratch at something, and, finding only fabric, resort to chewing on your lower lip as an alternative. It hurts, still raw from earlier in the night, but on some level it seems to soothe you, keep you grounded.  
“How…” your voice comes out hoarse, uneven. You swallow thickly, trying to summon the willpower to speak.  
“How are you here? What are you?”  
Slowly, glassy white eyes lift to meet yours.  
“Isn't it obvious, Anxies?”  
You shake your head, though you have many ideas flying around in your thinkpan at this point.  
“I'm a ghost.”


End file.
